The word vagabonds comes from the Latin adjective vagabundus, “inclined to wander”, from the verb vagor, “wander". Years ago families would pile into the family station wagon and with it loaded to the gills begin an annual trek somewhere. I remember our old Dodge Dart. Mom and Dad in the front and three boys struggling for space. One time we stopped at a truck stop on our way north from Florida. Strangely this truck stop had cages of birds for sale. Of course, one of these birds knew who to make that famous "wolf's whistle". One the way out of the bathroom, a bird whistled at mom and when she could in the car we could not convince her it was a bird instead of one of those truckers.
I believe our minds begin the process of "vacation migration" long before the car is filled with gas. We begin the process of choosing our destination--sometimes thinking of a warm climate while the snow swirls around us. We plan a budget and events which would mark our time and later be the topic of speech and memories.
I recently was talking to a man who had lost his wife two years ago. He had since begun to travel with a new companion. I asked him if he and his late wife had done the same thing. He said they had planned to but she got sick and eventually passed away. Taking medical equipment had been tried but made the trips difficult. We think vacations need to be large and expensive. However, it is small things which add up to lasting memories.
Don't wait for time which may never come. Become a vagabond with the love of your life while there still is life.
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